Highland Heights Visit...and my soon to be community from Sunday to Tuesday this summer

I haven't had a chance to upload my journals from the past two days, but here is today's reflections.  I will post the past two days asap when I can catch my breath!! Been a busy week, but a mighty good week.

What did I do today (see) (hear) (touch)? [Objective--my 5 senses]

• I got to see the life of the Highland Heights neighborhood today in the Montesi's grocery store.  The customers walking to "their" grocery store.  The owner who cuts his own profit because he knows that these are hard times for the people in the community.  The general manager who calls her customers and co-workers family.  The deli counter staff who were so patient and helpful to a bunch of sojourners, hungry and looking for a meal.
• I heard Fred Morton's passion for authentic leadership that rises out from the body of the neighborhood and the recognition that this takes time and intentionality.

What challenged me today?  What inspired? [Reflective--my intuition, my emotion]

• I was challenged by Jeralyn's question, "Are we working on our churches for the betterment of the community, or are we working on our communities for the betterment of the church?"  Wrestling with that question, my heart won't let me not ask, "Which option is for the glory of God?"  Are we called to maintain buildings that swallow our congregations?  Are we called to institutional maintanence?  Are we called to do the works of justice and peace just so we can add members to the roll books and pat ourselves on the back as we build the idolatrous structures to our own egos higher and higher?  No.  That's not what any of us in this room have in our hearts.  It's not why we are here today.  And I don't think it's why those ministers from the Highland Heights area are there doing their work either.  But why can't we work on our churches and work in our communities.  God calls us to agape love, to caritas love.  Why can't we work on the hearts, souls, minds, and bodies of those in our church and our community?  Isn't that relationship is all about?  God, forgive us for when it takes the decline and death of our churches or our communities to call us into action to do the work that you have called us to.
• I was inspired by the conversation between the four church leaders today at HHUMC.  No I didn't agree with everything that was said, or necessarily with the way each man viewed the neighborhood and its situation.  But what inspired me in that talk was quite simply the conversation between four men in ministry, in different denominations or capacities, and their willingness to talk with one another.  Our Christian's body is fractured, and we are often left fighting each other for control of the best ministries that will help us steal the most sheep.  But when we come together, and just talk, we might be able to find common ground in our neighborhood as well as in our Christian faith; and we might just be able to make a deeper, more important impact on our communities.

What did I learn today that I didn't before?

• Tom Laney asked us at dinner, "What has changed about you since your first year at Vanderbilt?"  At my turn, I answered, "I have always had a problem with the art of "critique."  Through some of the tough situations I have lived into with my fellow Turner cohort and from my peers' willingness to name uncomfortable situations or disfunctional meeting times, I was able to see how a critical eye (though not an argumentative one) can help a situation past some deadness or unspoken disagreement to go on to do greater, deeper work."  I go back to Geralyn's question that challenged me.  A year ago, I would not have been able to identify with Geralyn's question and move beyond to another related questions like, "What is for the glory of God?"  Instead of seeing the challenges people bring up as too pessimistic, I am able to look behind people's critiques and see what is really going on, look beyond the event to the patterns and systems, if you will.  I am able to let my "people-pleasing" self go a little more at a time and live with the hard questions.  Today, I learned about myself how I am growing in this practice.

How does the scripture reading for the day speak to me in light of this day's experience? [Interpretative--What does this all mean?]

• Numbers 11:10-30
• The city is like Moses..."Did I conceive all these people God?  The weight of them is on my shoulders?"  We are called to be the council of 70 in the community, to take the weight off of the city's shoulders and to restore her reputation, to bring shalom.
• 1st Corinthians 12:12-31
• We are all one body.
• Where do the affluent fit into our urban scenes?  How do we as church leaders bring all into one body?  Could we be called to preach to the wealthy about an odd God on the margins, or even an odd God who meets them on the margins of their lives?  How can we have shalom if we don't include everyone?

What will I do with this? [Decisional--self-conscious response; the next steps]

• I want to think more about the relationship between the community and the church, to continue to delve into how the church can be authentic with its community outreach (not just for means of self-preservation, although that may be a welcome side-effect).
• I also want to delve into how we can bring the affluent into relationship with the margins?  We can't ignore the center, but how do we get those in the center to start questioning the norm and their status.  Do we ever break relationship with those who refuse to get on board with our shalom vision?  If we do, how is that shalom?  If we don't, do we let them take down all the good work being done with negative attitudes?  How can we find a third possibility to these two?

Some of my friends in the class have added creative portions to their journals, so taking up on what they have done, I have this short piece to offer that also sums up some of what I have done the past two days as well (though I will get those other journals up soon so you can have more details)...

A city.  Broken.  Tired.  Lost in the desert.  Was it just a little over 40 years ago that the sanitation workers were crying out for justice?  Crying out against their oppressors who allowed them to work in abhorrent conditions for slavish wages?  Yet God called out, "I have heard your cry.  I know your suffering.  I will deliver you."  And God called out leaders, modern day Moseses to lead the people across the streets stained with red their blood and tears, to march for their freedom.  Now...40 years and more of wandering in the desert.  What change remains?  Has the city really moved that far?  Why have we let our communities that we could once organize to march for freedom break down to the point where neighbor distrusts neighbor, and our friends become strangers?  The city that has seen the potential for change and community and the kingdom of God know sees her people weeping, still weeping.  And the city cries out to God, "Why have you treated me so badly?  Why have I not found favor in your sight?  You lay the burdens of all these people at my feet!  Did I conceive all these people?  Did I give birth to them?  How am I supposed to feed them?  I cannot carry their burden alone; they are too heavy.  Can I just die?  It would put me out of my misery."  But God answers to the city, "I am not done with you. Gather those leaders who know the people.  Who know the stories, the assets of your people.  I will put your spirit, Memphis, your soul into these people.  They will help carry the burden.  In Binghampton, when gang or drug violence steals lives, these people, your people will hold candles and sing for love and reconciliation and drown out the anger for retaliation.  In South Memphis, where the destruction of a music studio that embodied the diversity and love between people who come together to pour their sould into music, these people, your people will resurrect it and draw in their children to teach them how to move and groove to the music I have placed in their hearts.  And a high school band will march down the streets and wake the people up, calling them, urging them to come outside, come out from locked doors, and meet their neighbors, grow food together, educate their children together, worship together.  In Highland Heights, a once vibrant place challenged by drugs, alcohol, and economic downturn, where churches that used to hold thousands find themselves empty of what they used to know and overwhelmed by new diversity, there will be a grocery store, long-standing, who has seen the plight of its community but holds on, and lowers prices because it knows that "these are hard times," and there will be leaders working for shalom, seeking to find what it means in their neighborhood, seeking the leaders of tomorrow for the neighborhood today, sounding the trumpet that we cannot wait, we need peace, we need God here now, not for ourselves, but for our community."  God speaks with an intense whisper, the kind that is no louder than a butterfly's wings beating but booms and echoes in your mind, body, and soul; God whispers, "Memphis I am moving.  I am breathing.  I have sent you leaders, you do not have to do it on your own.  The world is not black and white, there are not bad weeds and good seed alone.  I have given you something much more beautiful than that: restoration, recreation, renewal.  Live into that possibility of the gray, the inbetween Memphis.  Know that every part is the body of Christ, and that I am an odd God standing on the margins, calling out to all of my people in this city.  You need it all Memphis; without all your parts, you will lose your soul.  So seek out those leaders who can transform what the false prophets deem as lowlife, dirty, and violent, and know always that you are not alone."